What Is Happening?
by SpeedBump
Summary: L/M the usual. Stuck on a ship in hyperspace, ect.


Don't own, ect.

Mara stared at the wall of her bunk room. Her back was flat against the door. She was unsure of what had just happened, but her pulse was racing and she felt shaky. The tension had slowly built in her stomach as she stalked down the hallway to her quarters, trying to appear unconcerned until she slapped the door open and collapsed inside against it. What was that, that had just happened? Her hands touched her face, and she felt the still silence of her quarters welling up around her.

She'd been traveling with Skywalker on some good-will missions for the Republic, visiting some of the more rural areas of the Republic, bringing news, meeting with dignitaries. At least Skywalker was, she hung around and stood behind him in photos and helped with his force demonstrations and things. He'd finally cajoled her into it after months of bringing it up. But yesterday they were leaving a particularly rough backwater planet, the kind of place that was only nominally ruled, the kind of place filled with dark bars and all manner of beings selling things on the dark market. Upon leaving they had been set upon by a collection of motley vessels, who clearly were unaware of their official Republic status, but whatsmore, did not seem to care, and were interested only in disabling their ship and boarding it. Possibly to sell them into slavery, possibly just to kill them and take their ship. Regardless, it had been the most harrowing collection of minutes that Mara had had in at least 10 years. Ever since Karrade required her to move into more of a management role. She had forgotten how it felt to know every second ticking past might be her last, and it was only through Luke's force-aided dexterity at her guns and her own force-aided skillfulness at the controls, that they had been able to leap to hyperspace before the shields were decimated and they were boarded. Adrenaline streamed through her as she collapsed, limply at the control board. She had always been one to have her hysteric reactions after the events, which was good, but also meant she historically hyperventilated alone at her controls a lot. Luke had come to find her, and she felt the same electricity and hysterical reaction in his sense. She wasn't totally unaware that many humans reacted to the stress of confronting and escaping death by finding the nearest available method of oblivion and getting drunk or copulating. Mara normally preferred whiskey, but on occasion, particularly in her youth, she had engaged in one-night-stands.

So she wasn't then surprised to feel a crackle of electricity and soft seductive pull from Luke's hand on her arm, and she also wasn't surprised to feel herself, standing, pulling Skywalker's arm around her waist, hooking her arm behind his neck, and as his blue eyes turned black with desire, crushing her mouth against his with all the vigor she could manage. She felt him respond with equal rawness but also not a flicker of shock, and she felt the rest of her emotions pour out of her as they hastily made their way to Luke's guest quarters.

That they had slept together in a rush and fit of adrenaline did not shock her or surprise her. What surprised her was that after, she had somehow stayed in his bed, as he wordlessly tucked his arm across her stomach and fell almost instantly deeply asleep, his breath puffing on the side of her face. What surprised her was that she had felt some kind of gentleness seep into her soul as she placed her hand on the hairiness of his arm and closed her eyes. What surprised her was that as she drifted off was a slight thrill of delicacy against his larger male frame.

What she truly did not understand, and could not square with was that when she slowly came to wakefulness this morning, she had shifted to look at him for a long moment in the half-dark of his quarters, lying there, face creased with sleep, mouth slightly open, and she felt a pang of regret pierced her. Not at the event that had transpired, but that she had never before seen him so. Biting her lip, she had turned away from him, but slowly, pretending to be sleepily arranging herself, had maneuvered herself into his arms. He had wakened slightly, and obligingly slid his limbs to accommodate her, until her back was against his chest, and his arm, draped across her side and tucked by her chin, and his breath was hissing behind her ear. His arm pulled her gently, but insistently against his chest, and she felt a spike of adrenaline, excitement, but also strangely a simple, pure joy. Briefly, out of nowhere, she had thought to herself that if she lived the rest of her life waking up this way, it somehow might not be enough to ever quell the fierce urge she had to press herself against him, to feel his arms around her, to feel his weight against her. At first, slightly demurely, but then more obviously, she pressed back against him, rolled her shoulders slightly so she could make her mouth available to him, should he fully wake and want to kiss her.

She felt him begin to surface, becoming more aware of her presence trapped against him, and in a rush of adrenaline, she felt other parts of him stir as well. Cold fire burned in her chest as his warm hand slowly traveled from the pillow by her chin, down to her chest where he obliged her by cupping her breast and firmly pressing against her. She felt his stubble on her cheek as he leaned forward to kiss her, and abandoning all pretense, her eyes sliding open, Mara twisted to get purchase on his hips and shoulders, to pull him over, on top of her, snug against her bare body, to make her intentions clear. He grunted with surprised laughter but complied easily. She felt him smile against her mouth as the warmth of his body and soul overwhelmed her senses and she shivered beneath him. Meeting his eyes in the gloom as he brushed her hair back from her face, she realized she was smiling as broadly and as joyfully as she ever had smiled in her life. She wound her arms around him in delight and shut the thinking part of herself away.

That was the part she was having difficulty understanding.

After a lot of inward and outward cursing in the cool dark silence of her quarters, and having ruthlessly showered and changed, Mara considered her options. She had nowhere to run, they were due in Corsecrunt at the end of the week, and barring stopping in at a handy planet to re-fuel and fix up the ship, there was literally nothing she could do to avoid him, except stay in her quarters 24/7. Which, Mara reflected, would only be a viable option for someone 20 years younger. She gritted her teeth and splashed water on her face. "You're an adult, Jade, have the balls to act like one."

Who knew what Skywalker thought of the event. His sense had not noticeably changed except a certain buoyancy around the edges. Possibly he assumed this was all a bit of reaction to cheating death, something casual and friendly to their mutual benefit. Mara sighed. Of course that's what it was. She felt herself calm down. What had she been thinking? They had now been friends almost as long as they had been enemies. Give or take a decade. Of course, Mara thought wryly, she had hated him, or thought she did, much longer than he had even been aware of her existence. She scrubbed her face with a towel and stared at her face in the mirror. Tracing her lips with her hand she wondered what Luke was doing. Searching, she felt him humming gently in the kitchen, his deep calm unperturbed. She formed her resolution. Whatever this was that she had caused, she would take Skywalker's cues about it.

"What, are you doing?" Mara's voice broke the commotion in the kitchen, a bit rougher than she had meant it to be. Luke turned, from the cooker.

"Making breakfast, what's it look like?" He grinned sheepishly at her. Mara took in his thin sleep shirt and messy hair and a feeling almost like heartburn blossomed behind her sternum. She avoided his bright blue eyes and surveyed the scene of pancake batter and cracked eggs and the milk carton.

"I'm not sure. You know we have plenty of re-hydratable meal packs, right?"

Luke shrugged, laughing.

"I know how you feel about your fake food and messes. I promise I'll clean up, I just felt like pancakes." Mara approached him, still kind of refusing to meet his eyes. She felt both totally at sea, and completely normal. She briefly thought of her hand running through his chest hair earlier that morning and shivered again. She met his eyes for a long moment, and she felt her face growing lighter as he smiled at her. Quickly, Mara looked down at the counter.

"Pancakes sound nice." She managed.

They spent the rest of the day much as they had spent their previous days on this trip, or any space trip they had taken together over the years, playing card games, reading news, watching shows, telling stories of half-remembered exploits from a lifetime ago. Mara found as the day went on she felt much the same as she had ever felt around him, with the exception of noticing much more about his body. When he ruffled his hair to the side or she caught him glancing at her, he stretched his shoulders against the thinness of his shirt, or she felt with every fiber of her body that he would pass close to her physically and possibly brush against her, the same feeling like heartburn took up a sobbing residence in her chest.

They let the day pass in absolute normalcy with the exception, in the evening time, they were watching a comedy Luke had insisted on, and mid-way through he put his arm along the back of the seat, behind her shoulders. She stayed still for a few moments until with a deep sigh, she leaned towards him and nestled herself against his chest, listening to his breath. His hand curved around her shoulder and the slight pressure of his arm filled her mind with flashbacks of the morning and the deeply simple joy. She felt his gentle amusement and wondered what he thought about everything. Likely something profound and annoyingly earnest. Suddenly she realized Luke's other hand was under her chin, and he was tipping it up, and then he was kissing her and she realized, as that same gentleness washed over her soul, that she had never actually been just kissed before. Who would dare, really, she thought self-deprecatingly. Luke parted from her softly and smiled at her. Mara realized she was smiling back at him and looked quickly down at her hand next to his hip confusedly. What was happening? It was beyond her to ask.

Regardless, after the show was over he stretched and headed to take a shower, and Mara found herself alone in the viewing room, the silence of the ship pressing into her consciousness. That night she went back to her own quarters and after much deep thinking about her previous trysts, none of which featured any only-kissing, or gentle quiets of laying together, or anything approaching Luke's particular brand of warmth, fell into a light and strained sleep.

Upon waking, aching and tired from her fitful rest, and the stab of disappointment when she found the bed next to her cold and empty, Mara considered the idea that she was simply having a youthful twitterpation with her close friend in an attempt to reclaim her stolen adolescence. However, she felt him stir and on an impulse she refused to think through, slipped into the hallways, half dressed, making for his quarters. He was actually just next door to her, so it was a short journey. He surfaced at the sound the door made, and she felt his recognition followed shortly by his warmth as she slipped eagerly, almost greedily under his sheets. He grinned at her with one eye against his pillow and his hands pulled her close. She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent and edged closer to his hips, her arm across his back, slowly stroking patterns across his shoulders. He was warm, he was safe, he was excitement. His hand slipped lower on her waist, under the band of her underwear. Excitement spiked through her soul, and she knew he registered her reaction because both his eyes opened and he shifted her closer to him, their stomachs touching. He raised his hand and cupped her cheek in his hand as he kissed her, leaning against her, she arched back against him, adrenaline coursing through her, and when he pulled away slightly, she wondered that she could feel his heart pounding against her, and then she saw the smile on his face. Whatever was happening, she thought as she fiercely pulled him back against her, answering the force of his embrace, she thought it unlikely he was treating this casually.

That thought hummed around the back of her mind the rest of the week. They were as at ease with each other as they ever had been, but Luke found little ways of touching her through their days, and Mara, to her shock, found she didn't much mind. The strangest two things about this new arrangement, was how normal everything felt, and how much of her time was taken up thinking of old songs she had learned from her travels. Mainly they were rude drinking songs, but if hummed at the appropriate lilt and with the right energy they satisfied her.

She viewed with trepidation their return to the capitol planet. She still didn't know what was happening, and she dreaded the complication of returning to their real lives. She also felt no appetite to return to her regular job.

Two days before they were due to land at Corsecrunt Luke broached the subject.

"So what are you planning on doing when we land?"

"I'm not sure, why?" Mara glanced at him over the chess board and bit the inside of her cheek.

Luke looked slightly uncomfortable for the first time and glanced down at his pieces.

"I just would like to see you again. You know-" His hand gestured at the edge of the table. Mara looked down at her hands that seemed to be clasped together on the edge of the table.

"Like dinner? Like a date?" Her voice was small and she felt the strangeness of the words in her voice. She felt Luke's discomfort give way to amusement, and his hand closed over hers.

"Yes. Like dinner, like a date. I'm trying to date you, you annoyingly adorable moron." Mara thought closely for a second. She thought about how ordinary the past few days had seemed, and she thought about how difficult she knew she could be at times.

"Really?"

"Yes really." Luke sighed theatrically.

He was smiling at her again, and she thought about his arms closing around her and his blue eyes laughing at her from across the kitchen, and all the millions of ways she had wished all week she could touch him, and of those moments of perfect calm and still in bed when she felt the peculiar lightness in her soul. And then she thought about all the years she'd known him and all the times they'd spent, and all the things he already knew about her and all the things she already knew about him. Deep down, she admitted there was a word for what was happening, but she supposed it might not quite be time for that yet, but it was a start. She inhaled and opened her eyes where she apparently had closed them and found his shinning smile across the table.

"Well," she said, an answering smile beginning on her face. "that might be nice."


End file.
